


Kiss, cross, shake hands with a fool.

by BarPurple



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Allergies, Crime Scene, Fluff, Gen, Lisping Sherlock, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5137436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kidnapping case that could be at least a seven and Sherlock's transport is hindering him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss, cross, shake hands with a fool.

“Atich-choo!”

“Bless you.”

Sherlock gave his head a rapid shake and refocused on the scene before him. An abduction case with a clever kidnapper who’d had left the ransom note in the form of books…

“Atich-choo!”

…very old dusty books, which were presenting their own problem to decoding the message.

“Atich-choo!”

“Three’s a disappointment, bless you.”

John tilted his head towards Donovon.

“Three’s for a poem. Version I learnt.”

Sherlock tried to tune them out but three more sneezes erupted from him in quick succession. Bleary eyed he tried to glare at John and Sally. The look on John’s face told him that his glare was lacking today.

“Twhat are you two babbling about?” 

The slight lisp on the initial word didn’t help the ire he was trying to project. John handed him a clean handkerchief as he said;

“Sneezing rhymes. Y’know? One’s a wish, two’s a kiss. No? Deleted that bit of superstition have we?”

“Atich-choo!”

Donovan chimed in with,

“Seven is for something better.”

“I like that one. Seven for an illness in the one I know.”

Sherlock slowly turned back to the botany books laid open on the floor.

“Regional variances.”

He took a deep gasp of breathe as the solution connected in his head. That gasp dragged more dust into his already irritated airways, so instead of being able to rattle off the decoded ransom note, Sherlock sneezed four more times.

John and Donovan stared at each other. Sally shrugged and shook her head.

“I only know up to seven.”

John grinned and stuck his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a small prescription box and waved it at Sherlock.

“In that case; eleven is for the antihistamines your doctor prescribed.”

Sherlock blow his nose loudly and looking incredibly put up on he held his hand palm up towards John. Doctor Watson carefully placed one of the little white tablets in the centre of his hand and watched carefully as Sherlock dry swallowed it.

“Fankyou John.”  
“Ah-atich-choo!”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a sneezing rhyme I grew up with.


End file.
